


Dream Catcher

by malle



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Dubious Morality, Enemies to Lovers, George doesn't see Dream as an enemy though, M/M, Mafia AU, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Snippets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:20:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29522856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malle/pseuds/malle
Summary: "I promise it won't be that bad. There's a lot less killing involved. In fact, you technically wouldn't need to kill anybody if you just make sure I'm safe. Just make my life less of a nightmare than it already is. It'll be like your my own dream catcher." The man grinned so wide at his joke, his pearly whites on display.Dream wanted to break his teeth off and wear them as his necklace.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Kudos: 15





	Dream Catcher

The sun was down, and Dream was awake. He stepped out of his car, looking up at the tall building. Most of the floors were lit, except for the second top floor. That changed, when it suddenly lit up, and a man right at a window was looking down at him.

Dream felt a chill creep up his neck. His mask covered his discomfort.

He walked into his employer's building, tense and seething.

-/-

Nobody dared to be in the same elevator as him. An accountant almost did, only freezing when he looked up from his papers to see the mask, and quickly backtracked muttering an apology. The elevator opened to the 11th floor, where a secretary was seated on the right. Her long nails clacked along with the keyboard, her hair pulled into a tight bun, and heavy bags under her eyes. She looked up, surprised at the visitor.

"Sir, you need an appo- Sir!" Dream just walked past her, and towards the CEO's room. Before she could holler at his unprofessionalism, he was already inside the room. 

The CEO skyrocketed up from his desk, surprise evident on his face. 

"Dream! I suppose you're here for-"

"Get the fuck out of my way"

He brushed past the CEO and walked over to the puppeteer.

It was the same man who stared at him from the parking lot.

The scantily clad man was adorned with a black silk robe and nothing else. He was seated on a wooden stool in the corner, with a painting easel right in front of him. The moonlight illuminated the canvas. Recently, every time Dream visited the CEO's office, he was always there, painting.

There was always an empty stool, right across from him.

He walked to it, to find a thick layer of dust coating it. He swiped it away before taking a seat.

The man was painting and didn't seem to be disturbed at all at his sudden intrusion, unlike the CEO, whose jaw dropped to the floor at what he was seeing. The secretary was also peering in, absolutely stunned.

The man's hands were still fluttering on the canvas, but his head turned towards him, with a smile so full of teeth.

He looked fucking delighted.

"Since when?" The man said. Dream was surprised by the British accent. 

"Since I've seen you for the third time. The boss kept looking your way every time he made a decision." Currently, it was their 12th meeting.

The man momentarily stopped moving his paintbrush.

It was a little after a year of being employed that the man started showing up in the office, always seated at the corner. Dream came in to deliver his report, his suit still stained with blood, when he saw him. He glanced for a second, to only see long legs and his collarbones naked and bare. 

Dream had always assumed he was the CEO's whore, always in arms reach whenever he wanted to fuck. 

He didn't dare to let his gaze linger, in case his boss was the possessive type. 

It was only during the third meeting that he wondered why his employer seemed less confident. Why he seemed more fearful than usual as if there was one more person that could easily kill him.

The man let out a hum. He had no idea if he was surprised, or he knew all along.

"Well, I'm offering to give you a 30% raise. You've earned it after all." He resumed to painting as if the conversation was over.

"I don't want more money"

This earned him his attention. Dream couldn't tell what the man was thinking. His eyes were so dark, and he couldn't see his own, bright white mask reflected in them. It was akin to when he'd look up at the sky in the city. His legs would tremble, losing balance when he looked up for too long. There were no stars to be seen. The black sky would envelop him and swallow him whole.

The man set his paintbrush down, and gave his painting one last look before positioning his body towards him, giving him his full attention.

"No."

"You don't even know what I was going to say" Although Dream had a feeling he knew the gist of it.

"Take off your mask." without a missing beat.

Dream stilled.

"Oh right- apologies. Everyone leave." he glanced at the CEO and his secretary. The secretary skittered away from the door. The CEO seemed to huff in incredulity, but quickly turned meek and uttered an apology when the man hardened his gaze. The doors closed, and Dream was sure they were to leave not just the floor, but the entire building.

The man flashed him an endearing smile as if he was looking at his favourite pet.

"Take it off now. I want to see the colour of your eyes"

Dream was given the mask on his second day of work, when he managed to kill 36 people in one night, alone. He wasn't meant to survive past that, judging from the incredulous look the CEO threw him when Dream trudged back to his office, leaving bloodied footprints. The mask was disconcerting- a wide smile and two dots at the ends. He supposed the CEO wanted to protect his identity since he proved to be such a valuable asset. Or he wanted to make him known to everybody. The assassin with a smiley face. The mask felt embedded in his skin.

The man seemed to notice his hesitation and rolled his eyes.

"Did you know that _I_ made that mask? Bill reported that he landed an incredible hire. That the man killed 36 people in one night. But I bet you killed more than that- _a lot more_. Didn't want to stand out too much, right? I guess it didn't matter in the end. Anyway, I got inspired. The mask is simple. Believe me when I tell you I spent a lot of time thinking of the design, despite that it looks like a kid drew it. Which is good- easier for the enemy to remember and spread rumours. Whoever is staring at it can remember it forever in life and through death."

Dream wondered why the man only started showing himself to him after a year if he was there since day one. He unbuckled the clasp on the back of his head, and slowly lifted the mask off. He had no idea how he looked, but he was certain he was sporting heavy bags and a ghoulish tint due to lack of sleep.

The man hummed happily and dipped a paintbrush into a jar. It was red paint.

"My eyes are green" Dream said before he could swallow the words down.

The man looked at his eyes again, with concentration, and then at the paint.

"Apologies." The man took a few more seconds assessing his jars of paint until he settled on the right colour. He resumed painting. Was the man painting him right now? 

Dream didn't know what to say until he remembered what he came for. Anger surged back into his veins.

"I want to quit"

"No," The man said with finality.

"I already gave you my resignation notice." Quitting wasn't that easy though. He had to fulfill a usually impossible but plausible request to actually leave the assassin business behind. He was confident he could succeed.

"You can quit when pigs fly"

Dream glared at him. 

"Why do you want to quit?" The man sighed.

"I don't like the targets I've been assigned to" Dream said, a hint of sorrow seeping through. He didn't have the mask to cover it.

The man let out a scoff.

"I wasn't actually planning to kill them" He quipped. _Puppeteer confirmed._

No. The shoulder of the burden fell onto the real targets. The _parents_ would either sacrifice their children in favour of not ratting out their employer or not. The parents were told that the infamous _Dream_ was in their kid's house, ready to kill. Dream didn't know if he would've gone through with it or not. Fortunately, all the parents relented.

"Alright fine. I didn't think you'd be so _soft._ " 

Dream didn't realize he was staring at the ground until he lifted his head to make eye contact with the man. The man was smiling, teeth on display.

"You're promoted to being my bodyguard"

Hell no.

"Hell no," he exclaimed.

"You don't have a choice." 

Before Dream could retort, the man pulled a gun on him from under his robe.

"That won't stop me" Dream growled. The gun would definitely kill him. But he would have enough time to kill the man before he lost enough blood. Would killing him even make a difference? 

The man kept smiling and put the gun back inside his robe. He snapped his fingers, and Dream saw multiple red lasers aimed at his heart.

"Are you still going to reject me?" The man had the audacity to fake a pout.

Dream muttered a no, and the man waved his hand. The lasers were off him.

"I promise it won't be that bad. There's a lot less killing involved. In fact, you technically wouldn't need to kill anybody if you just make sure I'm safe. Just make my life less of a nightmare than it is. It'll be like your my own dream catcher." The man grinned so wide, his pearly whites on display.

Dream wanted to break his teeth off and wear them as his necklace.

The man's grin faltered when Dream didn't chuckle back. Dream supposed he was surrounded by _yes men_ all the time. Or maybe he genuinely thought it was a funny joke. The latter seemed too dreadful if he were now to be around this man all the time.

"Okay sir," he said in a monotone voice, giving up. He sensed the conversation was over and was now waiting for the man to dismiss him. 

The man kept staring at him, one eyebrow raised. Dream had no idea what he wanted.

"Do you not want to know my name? The name of the guy you're supposed to protect with your life?" The man asked incredulously.

It didn't really matter though. He addressed the CEO, Bill, as _sir_ or _boss_ and he'll continue to do so with his next employer.

The man seemed to sense his indifference and pursed his lips.

"You wound me."

Dream wanted to roll his eyes. 

"May I have your name, sir?" The man seemed to light up to that.

"George. Address me as such, no _sirs_ or _boss_."

"Okay."

George pursed his lips again. Dream wanted to bash his own head against the wall.

"Okay George," he complied.

George looked giddy with glee, eyes shining.

"Come to the 12th floor tomorrow at noon. That's all," He waved him away.

Dream nodded again, noting that the conversation was over, and put back his mask on. He felt the man's gaze on him the whole time when he closed the doors.

He was in the parking lot and looked up at the building. George was still looking at him, smiling when they made eye contact.

He should've just took the fucking raise.


End file.
